One more chapter before we say good-bye to this God awful year on New Year's Eve! I hope you all had a Merry Christmas (or at least a good day today)! Enjoy! :)
Author's Note: Some profanity and disturbing scenery ahead.
The Hightower
Alicent had been dreading this day. She had woken up at dawn and could not go back to sleep. She changed her position multiple times, flipped her pillows over from the warm used half into the cool unused half, and tried to think of pleasant meaningless things that could lull herself back to sleep. Nothing worked, and Alicent resigned herself to lying awake in her bed watching the sun rise over the ironically named Sunset Sea through her open veranda door. It was a beautiful sight seeing how the sky changed colors and got brighter as the sun rose higher and higher over the horizon.
But not even this beauty could completely eradicate the dread that the Disgraced Queen was feeling. Her stepdaughter and her entourage were due to arrive at Oldtown early that afternoon after departing from Honeyholt. She had been dreading it since she got the news that the Blacks were journeying to Oldtown yesterday. However, there was one other subject that could lighten Alicent's heart. That subject was grandchildren; Alicent had become a grandmother to twins once again just last night.
And just like Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, the twins were a boy and girl each, although the order of birth was switched around in this case. The very fertile Bethany had become pregnant again a few months after Rhaenyra I celebrated her tenth year on the Iron Throne, and she gave birth to her twin daughter and son the night before the queen was due to visit Oldtown. The twins were born both healthy and perfect with Valyrian features. Daeron and Bethany's new daughter was christened as Princess Vaella Targaryen. Naming their new son proved to be a little tricky.
Alicent and Daeron were shocked when Bethany suggested that the baby prince be named Vaemond.
"Um, darling," Daeron said apprehensively, "I would not use that name..."
"Why not?" asked a confused Bethany as she held her swaddled newborn twins in her arms.
"That was the name Lord Vaemond Velaryon. Do you by chance remember hearing about my father having the tongues of the Slient Five cut out after they tried to demand the disinheritance of the Velaryon Princes?"
Bethany gave her husband a blank stare. She was eight years old when the Driftmark Succession Crisis occurred, and she most likely did not pay attention to whatever was being said about the incident. Alicent took it upon herself to inform her daughter-in-law about Vaemond and his grisly fate along with the fates of his kinsmen. Bethany was absolutely horrified by what she had heard.
"By the Seven, that's awful!" She then looked down at her newborn son. He did not deserve to share the same name of a man who lost his head and whose body was fed to a dragon afterwards. He needed a better name. But what other male Valyrian name matched with Vaella?
Vaegon, after Archmaester Vaegon Targaryen? Certainly not. The twins' great-granduncle was known for being a sullen and unpleasant man. Not a fitting name for such a sweet little baby boy. Maester Ulrich, the successor of the late and much respected Maester Alfador, was consulted, and his quick research yielded a worthy name for the male twin: Valarr.
Prince Valarr Targaryen. Princess Vaella and Prince Valarr Targaryen. It was perfect. The twins were perfect. All was well, and both the Hightower's and Green Targaryen's took great joy in welcoming their newest family members. Vaella and Valarr's birth was welcomed bittersweetly by their Uncle Lyonel and his wife Patricia since their second born son died last year when he was only three hours old, and Lady Redwyne wept when she held the newborn Valarr for the first time...
Alicent's face fell as she remembered seeing Patricia weep for her deceased child. Both she and Bethany comforted the grieving mother as best they could afterwards, but words alone can never mend the wound that losing a child can inflict upon a parent's heart. There was hope though, since Patricia did express an interest in having more children later on, but who knows? Alicent then thought of her daughter-in-law again.
"Bethany's lucky." thought Alicent as she continued to watch the sunrise. "She will be on bedrest for most of Rhaenyra's visit."
Alicent sighed. She thought of Vaella and Valarr again, and her heart warmed up. The twin princess and prince were such darling and beautiful little babies. It reminded her of when she first saw Jaehaerys and Jaehaera after they were born. Alicent then wondered about their baby son Gaemon and how he was doing.
That poor child; to be born both blind and frail... Hopefully the next baby that was now growing in Jaehaera's womb will be healthier. Alicent prayed every morning and night for the Mother to watch over her infant great-grandson, and that he would flourish and grow stronger. And on that note, Alicent clasped her hands together in prayer. She prayed for both Gaemon's health and for her to make it through the month, for that was how long Rhaenyra and her family was going to stay at Oldtown.
Alicent's longtime maidservant entered her bedchamber when the morning sky was pink and yellow to rouse her mistress and to help get her dressed. She barely touched a thing on her plate during breakfast. Princes Aemond and Daeron shared their mother's dread for their half-sister's impending arrival and stay at Oldtown too, and their appetites were just as small that morning as well. The two brothers also had, in their minds, the unenviable position of escorting the Blacks to Oldtown just like how Luke and Joff did for the Hightower's and Daeron last year for the Tenth Year Tourney. They were due to meet the royal party halfway up the Roseroad from Oldtown with a cortege consisting of knights from Houses Hightower as well as from two of their bannermen: Houses Bulwer and Costayne.
When it came time for Aemond and Daeron to leave with their host, Alicent returned to her bedchamber to change into a nicer outfit. She may still loathe Rhaenyra I, but she was still going to be courteous since the queen was going to be the guest her cousin, Lord Ormund Hightower. Alicent donned a lovely gown of green, white, and gold, and her hair was styled into a jeweled and veiled caul. After she had changed, the dowager queen waited in her bedchamber. Once informed that dragons had been spotted by the Oldtown City Watch, Alicent took a deep breath, got up, and left to go outside to the Hightower's courtyard.
Alicent could hear cheering coming from the smallfolk as the royal dragons appeared in the sky above Oldtown. The cheering soon grew louder, indicating that the royal entourage had entered the gates of the proud, old city. It was only a matter of time before Alicent spotted the familiar forms and colors of Syrax, Caraxes, and Sunfyre.
"There they are." thought Alicent when she saw them.
The dragons flew around the Hightower three times before landing in the courtyard just as the rest of the Black entourage crossed the bridge leading from the mainland to Battle Island, which was where the Hightower stood. Rhaenyra's gaze met her estranged stepmother's as the dust settled. It had been eleven years since the two women had last seen each other. The queen dismounted from Syrax as her family arrived at the Hightower, and the assembled Hightower's, including Alicent, all bowed to her.
Alicent got a better look at her former stepdaughter after she had finished bowing to her. Rhaenyra's girth had expanded greatly since Alicent had last seen her, and the Exiled Queen could not help but notice that the Dragon Queen was wearing a dress that was black and maroon, the shade of the maroon being so dark that it was nearly black itself.
"Dark raiment to make you look less fat." Alicent thought scornfully. "But she does look good in that dress. Then again, a heifer would look lovely in it too."
"Supercilious as always." thought Rhaenyra with equal disdain. "And she has a miserable countenance too. But she is still as fit as the day she married father, and she does not look like she has aged that much either... It is so unfair!"
Alicent then saw Daemon. He was wearing a crimson and sable outfit with Dark Sister sheathed at his left hip. "Gods look how old he has gotten. He has lines on his face, his hair is as white as snow, and it is so strange seeing him with one eye... Old or not, he still looks like a bastard."
"She still looks like a bitch." thought Daemon when he laid his eye on his widowed sister-in-law. "She does not look like she has aged at all. I do not see a grey hair anywhere on her head. Then again, her headdress could be obscuring any grey that she might have."
Alicent took in the rest of the Blacks as they filed in behind Rhaenyra I and Daemon. She smiled when she laid eyes on her eldest son and two grandsons. Her smile morphed back into a regal frown when she saw her stepdaughter's family.
"Strongs, Strongs, Strongs." chanted Alicent in her head when she saw her hated Velaryon step-grandsons and their children. "Everyone else can see that. All except Viserys of course, that willing fool. He just could not accept the fact that his precious daughter was, no, still is, a spoiled little harlot."
Rhaenyra and Alicent's gaze was broken as the Voice of Oldtown and Lady Sam formerly greeted the queen and both the royal family and her own family. Rhaenyra's sternness melted away when she saw her dear friend again; her purple eyes lit up, and the corners of her mouth rose. She acknowledged Ormund briefly before embracing the man's wife. The two women chatted as if they had known each other for years rather than just one. When the pleasantries were over, Rhaenyra I came face to face with her estranged stepmother again.
Both women looked stern. Twenty-three years of loathing and competition during the reign of the Young King. Eleven years of separation following the coronation of the Dragon Queen. So much history and animosity between the two queens, and what were the first words that they said to each other during their first meeting in over a decade?
"Alicent."
"Rhaenyra."
This was the same thing that the two women had said that day when the queen informed her stepmother and her family what their fate was in the Red Keep's throne room back in 129 AC. Understandably, time could not heal the gaping chasm that was the rift between Alicent and Rhaenyra I, but one would think that the two could have come up with a greeting that was at least three words long. Oh, well. Lady Sam mediated between the two women.
"Was your journey a pleasant one, Rhaenyra? I take it that the Lord and Lady of Honeyholt were amiable hosts?"
The queen turned to look at her friend, her expression becoming friendly again.
"Yes, Lord Alan and Lady Jeyne Beesbury were wonderful hosts; very accommodating and generous."
"And did Aemond and Daeron provide a good escort?" interjected Alicent, her countenance appearing smug. Rhaenyra stiffened up when she heard her stepmother's question. Suffice to say, it gave Alicent so much pleasure to see Rhaenyra I put on the spot. The queen's purple irises glared at Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower for a second before she finally mustered up an answer.
"They did. They did." said an obdurate Rhaenyra.
"It is the least that my sons can do for you, Rhaenyra." spoke Alicent, her smugness hugging every word. "Daeron told me how Lucerys and Joffrey provided him and our cousins with a good escort last year for your tourney."
"Yes, Daeron said that my sons provided a superb escort." said Rhaenyra, drawing out the last vowel of superb.
Alicent nodded her head slightly, her gaze hardening with displeasure on how Rhaenyra emphasized that one word. An escort was an escort, it was not as if Luke and Joff had brought along a troupe of acrobats and dancers to entertain the Green procession on the way to King's Landing. Rhaenyra craved praise as a princess, a habit that did not stop once she was crowned queen. Her stepmother was not the least bit surprised.
Simmering tension clearly visible, Lady Sam stepped in. It was a very much needed rescue.
"And speaking of Daeron, his wife gave birth to twins last night."
"Really, now?" Rhaenyra said pleasantly. She then looked at her youngest half-sibling, who had rejoined his Green kinsmen after dismounting Tessarion. "Congratulations to you and Bethany. Are they both sons? Daughters? One of each like Jaehaerys and Jaehaera? How is Bethany doing?"
"One of each." answered Daeron with fatherly pride. "Their names are Vaella and Valarr. Bethany is doing well and is on bedrest as ordered by Maester Ulrich."
"Very good." nodded Rhaenyra. "Seven above, the Hightower's should add a pregnant woman to their coat-of-arms. Their words should be "We Light the Way and Our Women are Fertile!"
Rhaenyra got a better look at Daeron. He did not appear to have changed much since last year, the only obvious difference being that he was only a father of three then instead of five which he was now. Six feet tall, Aemond's physical appearance had changed drastically since his hated half-sister last laid eyes on him. Normally clean-shaven, Aemond now sported a well-trimmed silver-gold beard on his face, which made him look older than his thirty years. His hair was trimmed as well, and he was wearing blue and black clothes, and a sheathed dagger hung from his leather belt that was decorated with a silver buckle.
Typical of Aemond One-Eye whenever Rhaenyra or her family or allies where around, he bore a scowl on his face. His arms were crossed, and he was glancing around at the queen's entourage, his sapphire false eye flashing from the sunlight. Aemond's left eye eventually caught Daemon's right eye, and uncle and nephew glared at each other with a hatred that they did not bother to conceal.
"Old bastard..." snarled Aemond to himself as he glared at his hated uncle.
"Vain little shit..." thought Daemon as he glared at his hated nephew.
After what felt like the longest staring game in the world had concluded, Aemond glanced at the rest of the entourage. When he locked eyes with Prince Lucerys Velaryon, his least liked half-nephew, the same thing happened between the two men just like what had gone on between Daemon and Aemond earlier.
"Look at little Luke Strong over there; a jumped-up bastard dressed in sea-green and white. You can play dress-up all you want, Strong, but you and your brothers are not fooling anyone. You three are the spawn of Harwin Breakbones, the grandsons of Ser Lyonel Strong. We all know what you three really are..."
Not a single word was exchanged between Aemond and his half-nephews. As her second younger half-brother made his observations, Rhaenyra I got a good look at his family. She was perplexed by Alys Rivers. She looked indifferent to the queen's presence, almost bored in fact, although Alys did bow her head in acknowledgement of the Lady of the Seven Kingdoms. Alys wore a red and white dress, her black hair was long enough to serve as a cape, her skin looked to be as white as milk, and her eyes were dark and magnetic like a black hole.
What the hell did Aemond see in Alys? Sure, she is the mother of his only child, but still, the woman might actually be older than Alicent herself! And, it might have just her, but Rhaenyra thought that her half-brother's paramour possessed an aura of strangeness about her... Wanting a distraction from Aemond's dear Alys, Rhaenyra turned her attention towards the couple's son. Lydus Rivers stood in front of his mother, who was holding him in a motherly embrace with her hands lightly clasped over his heart.
Ten year old Lydus was the spitting image of his father when he was his age (before the loss of his eye, of course). His silver-gold hair was shoulder-length, and, from what Rhaenyra saw before her half-nephew shyly looked down, he also had purple eyes.
"Don't be shy, sweetling." Alys said softly as she gently grasped her son's chin and pushed it upwards so that Lydus could look directly at his half-aunt. Much to Rhaenyra's surprise, unlike Aemond, there was no meanness or contempt in Lydus's eyes. Instead, there was a boyish innocence to them, and Lydus looked to be a sweet boy. If it weren't for Lydus's Valyrian features, Rhaenyra would have seriously doubted that Lydus had been fathered by her half-brother.
How could such a sweet boy have been born to such a bizarre couple: a hot-tempered and spiteful man for a father, and an enigma of a woman who was rumored to be a witch? Rhaenyra honestly felt sorry for Lydus. Despite his parentage, it was clear that Lydus was loved by his mother, and from what Helaena had told Rhaenyra over the years, Aemond doted on his son. The queen noticed the charm that was hanging from Lydus's neck. Hanging from a twine string was a clay effigy of what looked like a warrior carrying a sword and shield.
It was a queer looking thing.
Before long, Alicent warmly greeted her son and grandsons, and the Targaryen's were escorted into the Hightower where a light meal of bread, fish soup, fruits like strawberries, grapes, peaches, melons, and pomegranates that were grown in the Hightower's own gardens, and flagons of wine awaited the royal guests in the high hall. Not many words were exchanged between the Hightower's and Targaryen's, although Lady Sam happily chatted away with the queen and her Tarly relatives. Resting afterwards from both the journey and after eating, Lord Ormund and Lady Sam gave the Blacks a tour of the Hightower. Being the tallest structure in Westeros, there was a lot for the Black Targaryen's to see. The tour started at the bottom and worked its way up.
Underneath the Hightower are great vaults that are brimming with House Hightower's great wealth. Rhaenyra considered her goldenheart ring when Ormund regaled her family on how some of his family's treasures came from what Ser Eustace Hightower had accumulated during his voyage with Lady Elissa Farman eighty-four years ago. Treasures like exotic woods that were carved into staves, rings, bowls, cups, and utensils and then lacquered to preserve them; pearls from the Summer Islands, and of course gold, silver, and precious gems like rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and amethysts. Exploring the foundation of the Hightower, an ancient fortress that was made of black stone, was especially interesting. Ormund claimed that no one was sure who had built the fortress, but some scholars at the Citadel claimed that the fortress's architects hailed from the Valyrian Freehold, and that it was constructed well before the Coming of the Andals.
Moving up the levels of the Hightower, the Blacks saw the living quarters, solars, vaults, halls, and other chambers that their host's family used, their splendor increasing with each climb up the tower. Reaching the apex was the climax of the tour, and the view was well worth the climb, although Rhaenyra wished that she had not become so sweaty at the end. Her grandchildren swarmed the veranda surrounding the Pharos's light in hopes of trying to get a view of the faraway Wall. Daemion claimed that he could see the Wall while his brother and cousins could not, but thankfully there was more than plenty of other things to see from the top of the Hightower. The royals could see the layout of Oldtown, the blue vein of the Honeywine as it bled into the Whispering Sound, which in turn connected to the great expanse of the Sunset Sea.
The Ocean Road and Roseroad could both be seen. Seafaring vessels like trading cogs and fishing boats sailed in and out of the Whispering Sound, their white sails looking like either floating white feathers or daisy petals depending on their size. The princes and princesses who were dragonriders soon shared a collective desire to fly their beasts to the apex of the Hightower and then fly back down as fast as they could. The adults were keen on flying their own dragons around the city, although some of them did harbor a secret desire to do the same thing that their children were planning on doing too! Ormund pointed to the Hightower's looming shadow below, telling them how the place was a giant sundial from which every Hightower and Oldtowner both highborn and lowborn could tell time from without need of an hourglass or by guessing.
Exploring the massive Hightower had taken nearly three hours that had passed by quite quickly, and the tower's shadow indicated that the afternoon would soon enter its later hours. It was time for rest and freedom until the welcoming feast began at dusk. Dabbing herself dry of the sweat on her forehead and neck after descending from the apex, Rhaenyra I, accompanied by Visenya, Lady Sam, Alicent, Daeron, and Sers Steffon and Robert Darklyn, ventured to Lady Bethany Hightower's bedchamber to see her newborn twins. The queen was delighted with little Vaella and Valarr, and she was quite pleased to see the twins' older sister and brothers there in the bedchamber with their mother. She complimented on her twin half-niece and half-nephew's Valyrian features, calling them both beautiful and darling.
Bethany smiled softly and thanked the queen each time she complimented her babies. Prince Aeryn Targaryen was the boldest of his siblings, and he crawled onto Rhaenyra's lap while his older siblings remained by their mother's side. Queen Rhaenyra happily repaid her half-nephew by rubbing his head. Visenya also enjoyed seeing her new half-cousins, and she held each of them. Alicent and Visenya met each other for the first time in Bethany's bedchamber.
This first meeting between step-grandmother and step-granddaughter was awkward as Alicent was amazed by the resemblance between Rhaenyra I and Visenya; the princess was the spitting image of her mother when she was her age. Feeling watched during the visit to Bethany's bedchamber, Visenya glanced up more than once from whichever baby she was holding to see that her step-grandmother was looking at her with a strange interest.
"Pardon me, my lady," began the princess, who was both curious and unnerved by Alicent's behavior, "but may I ask why you are looking me so much?"
Rhaenyra looked over at Alicent with motherly concern for her daughter. The Disgraced Queen seemed taken aback by the question, either from Visenya bringing attention to her, or her realizing that she had been staring at the princess.
"Oh! My apologies, Visenya. It is just you look so much like your mother when she was your age. I became lost in a sea of memories and seemed to lose all self-awareness... I am sorry if I have unnerved you."
"It is fine, my lady." said Visenya in a brusque tone before returning her attention back to the swaddled Vaella in her arms in hopes of quickly forgetting this small incident.
"Rude just like her mother, too..." thought a displeased Alicent. "I hope Visenya has not inherited all of her mother's negative traits. I would hate to see my darling Maelor be cuckolded like Laenor was..."
This encounter between Alicent and her stepdaughter's youngest child set the tone for the rest of the Blacks' visit to the Hightower. Years of tensions between the Blacks and Greens put a damper on any attempt made by the adults to socialize. Their children, whose impressionable minds soaked up the biases that the older generations had for the whatever side of the schism they were against, encountered awkwardness when trying to bond with each other. This diplomatic trial was going to be especially onerous since the queen and her retinue were going to stay at Oldtown for a month. Lady Sam had her work cut out for her during her friend's visit!
Alicent and Rhaenyra I hardly spoke to each other unless Samantha encouraged them to, during which the two queens would exchange curt sentences with very little interest in what the other was talking about. Aemond, for everyone's sake, chose to avoid his half-sister and her family as much as he could to prevent him from being tempted to say something that could have serious ramifications for both their families. He would have surely ignited a war during the night of the welcoming feast at the Hightower if he had toasted his half-grandnephews as "fine strong lads" like he wanted to. Thankfully, both his mother and paramour kept an eye on him, and their pointed glares were more than enough to keep Aemond in check. Daeron was courteous as always, but he preferred being in the company of his older brothers and nephews during the visit along with being with his wife and children.
However, a flicker of hope appeared during the Targaryen's second day at Oldtown. That day, Daeron took his twins to the Starry Sept to have them anointed with seven holy oils by the High Septon himself for their official naming ceremony. Both Blacks and Greens attended the ceremony. Dressed in immaculate white robes with a crown of gold and crystal upon his head, the High Septon gently anointed Vaella and Valarr, who were being held by their father and grandmother respectively, with the oils from the same fonts that were used to anoint their half-aunt during her coronation eleven years earlier. He recited prayers to the Seven Above to protect these two newborn lives, saying the names of the prince and princess aloud so that both creation and heaven would know what the twins were going to be called for the rest of their lives.
After the ceremony had concluded, the High Septon began receiving visitors as they lined up to him. He blessed his queen and prayed that her reign would be long and successful, and that her Blacks would reconcile with the Greens. He blessed the dowager queen and prayed that she would finally know peace and that her Greens would reconcile with the Blacks. He blessed Lady Sam and praised her for the good work she was doing in trying to end the schism between the two queens. The three women met up as they walked away from the High Septon.
Neither of them said a word about what the High Septon had said to them, but there was one thing that they could talk about once they were outside at the Starry Sept's entrance.
"Did you smell his perfume?" asked Alicent.
"Yes, I did!" Rhaenyra said with a grin. "It was so cloyingly sweet!"
"He must bathe in the stuff regularly for him to smell so strongly!" added Samantha.
"He smells more like a dowager than both Oldtown and myself combined!" joked Alicent in a rare moment of lightheartedness.
The three women then laughed together. It was strange yet heartwarming to hear the two queens laugh together in a good-natured way. Oddly enough, this was not the first time that stepmother and stepdaughter had shared a good laugh together. During the bygone days of Rhaenyra's childhood, both she and Alicent laughed along with Viserys I over Mushroom's jokes and antics. There was even a time when the Queen in Exile found humor in her stepdaughter's witty comments and remarks before things worsened between them.
For just that one moment, all ill-will and past slights between Alicent and Rhaenyra were forgotten in favor for a moment of shared humor together. After the women were done, silence descended upon them again, and they retreated to their wheelhouses. Back inside the Starry Sept, meanwhile, Thea and her husband approached the High Septon. Thea told the Shepherd of the Masses about her previous miscarriages, and that she had discovered that she was with child again the day before. She pleaded to have her womb blessed so that she would never miscarry again.
Sympathetic to the young woman's plight, the High Septon placed his hand on Thea's womb and recited a prayer to the Mother to spare her unborn child's life and to let the pregnancy be untroubled. Aegon and Thea both had their heads down with their eyes closed as they listened to the High Septon's prayer, hoping with all their hearts that the head of the Faith's prayer would be a powerful conduit for the Seven's blessing to spare their child. Aegon and Thea left the sept silent but hopeful. They would pray together later that night before they went to sleep. It was all they could do.
The day after the naming ceremony, the Targaryen's toured Oldtown. Because it was summer, the city sweltered under the sun, and rippling veils of steam hugged the rooftops and the horizon of the Sunset Sea. There was no breeze that day either. Not wanting to walk around sweating in fine clothes with a crown on her head, Rhaenyra opted to take an aerial tour of the city on Syrax's back. Lady Sam rode with Rhaenyra, and she pointed out Oldtown's winding labyrinth of cobblestone streets, wynds, alleys, and bridges. The din of Oldtowners going about their day to day lives in those streets and marketplaces could be heard by the dragonriders whenever they flew low during their tour.
When there was a pleasant breeze, or if the day was not too hot, the royals would tour the city streets on horseback. Members of Oldtown's City Watch would supplement the Queensguard's escort, one of them being Rhaenyra's former step-uncle, Lord Commander Gwayne Hightower. The family got a closer look at the mansions, guildhalls, the Citadel, and marketplaces during their tour. Myrine would have loved seeing the Citadel and marketplaces had both she and Viserys come along for the progress. Being an important port city, Oldtown boasted markets that catered to every want or need that its citizens had.
Spice markets sold baskets full of cinnamon, cloves, black pepper, and nutmeg. Silk markets sold bolts of the shimmering fabric that was imported from faraway lands like Qarth and Naath. Wine markets sold casks and wineskins filled with expensive vintages from the Arbor or even the highly exalted wines from Yi Ti. Fish markets sold the catch of day like snapper, sea bass, swordfish, winkles, clams, and shrimp. General markets sold everything like grain, shoes, looms, cooking pots and chamber pots, clothing, furniture, and so much more.
Wherever the royals went, they were greeted by throngs of excited and curious people.
Alicent even rode up front with Rhaenyra, Daemon, and Lady Sam. She proudly pointed out the interesting sights of her hometown to the group, and talked about the history of the mansions and streets, septs and temples, and which alleyways led to the Thieves Market and Ragpicker's Wynd. There was still a rift between stepmother and stepdaughter, but it appeared that that rift was had grown a bit smaller during the royal visit. The Disgraced Queen was delighted with Rhaenyra I's granddaughters, praising their needlework and looks. Alicent was especially fond of seven year old Princess Megaera Velaryon even though she was the youngest daughter of her despised step-grandson, Luke; she would complement Meg's honey blonde hair and tell her what a pretty girl she was.
However, goodwill between the Blacks and Greens during the royal progress did not bud without issue. The first negative incident to occur was a tragic one. It happened during the Targaryen's first week at the Hightower. Everyone was eating supper in the high hall and having a good time until Lady Celtigar began to feel cramps coming from her lower back. Thea's stomach sank, and she placed a hand on her womb.
Time seemed to stand still as the cramps became more painful. The pain was heartbreakingly familiar...
"No..." Thea whispered, "no..."
Tears welling up in her eyes from both fear and sorrow, Thea turned to her husband.
"Aegon."
The prince turned to look at his wife, and he immediately became concerned when he saw her face.
"It's happening again. I need a maester..."
Aegon's face fell and went white. Thea groaned with pain and leaned forward with her hands on her abdomen and lower back. Held by Aegon, Thea cried as her husband frantically called for a maester to attend to her. It was not long before Thea could feel blood running down her thighs... Ser Clothair Blackwood quickly collected Lady Thea into his arms to carry her to Maester Ulrich's study as everyone stared agape in horror of what was happening.
Visenya looked down at her sister-in-law's empty chair and saw bloodstains on the cushion. The sight of the blood greatly unnerved the young girl. She looked up and caught her mother's distressed gaze. Rhaenyra looked at her daughter's wide terrified eyes and then looked down and saw what was on Thea's chair.
"Do not look at it, Visenya. Come here, come here." beckoned Rhaenyra with her arms outstretched. The eleven year old princess all but ran to her mother and hugged her. The emotional atmosphere and seeing the blood had gotten to Visenya, and she burrowed her face into her mother's shoulder as the queen comforted her as if she were younger than her eleven years.
Meanwhile, Thea wept on her bed as Maester Ulrich did his best to stop the bleeding. He administered sweetsleep to calm Thea after the miscarriage had stopped, and he allowed Aegon to see her. As if losing a fourth pregnancy was not enough, Thea soon came down with a fever. Ulrich administered herbal medicines and cold compresses to try and bring his patient's fever down. Aegon was by his wife's bedside every day.
Lady Celtigar was despondent after losing the baby; she barely spoke, and hardly ate or drank anything. Thea received many condolences from both the Targaryen's and Hightower's, but none of their sympathetic words could alleviate the despair that was festering in her heart. Even Alys Rivers visited Thea's bedchamber. Losing so many children to stillbirths made Alys empathetic to Lady Celtigar's plight.
"I know the pain that you are feeling, milady." said Alys. "It is an unbearably monstrous one..."
This comment caused Thea to nod her head sadly in agreement.
"But fear not." Alys then placed a hand on Thea's abdomen. "You will have a bloodline. My fire has told me so..."
"Please, go away." Aegon said coldly, as he was tired of hearing people giving both him and Thea empty hope that a child would be born to them, as he moved Alys's hand away from his wife's stomach. "We have prayed to the Mother, and even the High Septon prayed to her on our behalf. How would your prediction be any better?" Alys did not look the least bit offended by the prince's statement. Instead, she gave him an eerie smile before departing from the room with her hair flowing behind her.
It did not take long for a rumor to spread in the Hightower that Alys herself had caused Thea to miscarry with black magic, her unborn child being a sacrifice for the Lord of the Seven Hells to keep him from taking Lydus away. Much to everyone's relief, Thea's fever broke a few days after she miscarried her fourth child. However, she felt uncomfortable being at Oldtown, and wanted to return to King's Landing. Rhaenyra was saddened that her son and daughter-in-law were not going to stay for the rest of their progress, but she gave them her blessing for them to leave so that Thea could recover in familiar surroundings. It was sad seeing Stormcloud depart with the couple on his back.
Two more incidents would hector Rhaenyra's visit to Oldtown. The second occurred during a sunny day in the Hightower's massive training yard. That day, the queen's grandchildren were there practicing swordplay, archery, and horseback riding with the Hightower's. Watched over by his mother and father, ten year old Lydus approached Princes Baelor and Aelyx as they practiced under the tutelage of their grandfather. Daemon saw his bastard grandnephew in his peripheral vision and he scowled.
"What does that little bastard want?" he thought.
Aemond watched his uncle intently, ready to give Daemon a piece of his mind if the king dared to brush his son off.
"Um...," stammered Lydus, "uh, would it be alright if I practiced with you, your graces?"
Before Daemon could say anything, his oldest grandson spoke up.
"Sure!"
Lydus smiled slightly, happy that he was so readily accepted. Although half-Targaryen, Lydus's status as a bastard saw him being treated differently by everyone. He learned swordplay from his father since the men and boys in the yard would make snide remarks about Lydus, calling him the son of a witch, the dragon's bastard, or whoreson to name a few. Aemond was furious when he first heard these cruel comments, and he wanted to slaughter the ones responsible for the slander. He eventually came to the sad conclusion that he could not protect his son from everything, but he kept Lydus away from those who could bully him by training him himself.
Other than his parents, Lydus did not have any close relationships with anyone else. He got along great with his Uncle Daeron, but the prince was a father of five young children who were all under the age of six, and he could not pay a lot of attention to his friendless nephew. Lydus barely knew his Uncle Aegon, his eldest cousin Jaehaerys was much older than him, and Maelor preferred his Black half-relatives. Alicent did care for her grandson, but it was clear that she favored her trueborn grandchildren over him. Lydus's cousins liked him, but they were younger than him, and he wished to mingle with children who were the same age as him.
Seeing Baelor in the training yard caused Lydus to try and be friends with him. It looked like he was about to have his wish granted. Lydus was given a wooden training sword, and he began practicing with his half-cousins' sons. At some point, Daemon decided to have the boys spar against each other. Despite his dislike for Lydus due to his paternity, Daemon was quite impressed by his ten year old grandnephew's skill with swordplay.
"Very good swing you have there." commented the old king. "Your father taught you that?"
Lydus nodded but said nothing.
"Why don't you and Baelor spar together? You both have talent. Let's see who is the strongest."
Aemond and Alys became even more attentive when they heard what Daemon had said. Lydus grinned. His father always complimented him, and it now time to get compliments from other people. Holding his wooden training sword in both his hands, Lydus squared off against Baelor. The two boys circled once before Lydus made the first strike, which was deftly blocked by Baelor, and Lydus in turn blocked the next three blows that were made by the prince.
Daemon observed the two boys carefully. Baelor was the strongest, but Lydus was the quickest. Both boys were smart, and they went after any opportunity that became available. It was only a matter of time before the duel between the two boys got heated. Those who were working in the yard slowly began to crowd around the prince and his father's half-cousin.
Getting frustrated that he had not yet landed a direct hit on Baelor, Lydus began swinging his sword harder, and he grunted with each blow he made, his nostrils flaring like a bull's. Aemond saw his temper coming out in his son, and it brought him back to that fateful day at High Tide when he got into that fight with the Velaryon Princes and Luke cut out his right eye... Daemon noticed the change in his grandnephew's temperament, and he carefully watched Lydus. Without warning, Lydus pushed down Baelor's sword and swung his across the prince's face. The wooden tip of the blade swiped Baelor's mouth, and the prince fell down clutching it with his free hand.
"Baelor!" shouted Daemon as he rushed to his grandson's side.
Realizing what he had done, Lydus dropped his sword.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
Ignoring Lydus, Daemon helped Baelor to sit up.
"Here, lad, let me see." he said as he pulled away Baelor's hand from his mouth. The prince's lip had been split badly, and blood was trickling down his chin. Gasping could be heard coming from the assembled crowd along with concerned murmuring. Furious at his grandson's injury, Daemon turned to face the still apologizing Lydus, and with an aggressive wave of his hand, said the following, "Just go away you little bastard!"
Lydus became silent, and he became crestfallen when he heard those words. The training yard became silent.
"What did you say?!" shouted an outraged Aemond. He tried to move towards Daemon, but Alys held him back.
"Stop, Aemond! You attacking your uncle will only make it worse!"
Keeping her lover at bay, Alys then ran over and took her son by his hand and led him away. The family made their way back to the Hightower. Queen Rhaenyra was furious when she learned what had happened in the training yard, and her anger increased even more once she saw her beloved grandson's injury. She gathered her the rest of grandsons and told them that they were never to spar with Lydus since he was "dangerous" like his father. Uncle and niece later had a good laugh at Aemond's hypocrisy since he got so angry over his own flesh and blood being called a bastard after spending most of his life calling Rhaenyra's sons "Strong's".
Meanwhile, an upset Lydus was comforted by his parents and grandmother. While Alicent told her grandson that she believed that he did not mean to hurt Baelor, she told him to avoid both him and his cousins from then on. However, it would be Baelor who would seek out Lydus the following morning to tell him that he forgave him for what had happened the day before. Lydus was pleased to receive Baelor's forgiveness, but the damage had been done. At ten years of age, Lydus believed that he would always be friendless, and his parents were furious about how Rhaenyra I had further ostracized their son...
The third incident occurred the same day Baelor forgave Lydus for splitting his lip. Just like the day before, this incident took place in the training yard. Alyssa was shooting arrows at targets when she overheard the young Lord Cyril Hightower, the son of Ser Myles Hightower and a second cousin twice removed of Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower, making nasty remarks about both her brothers to his friend, a squire from House Mullendore of Uplands.
"It is so pathetic that Prince Baelor was beaten by a bastard. I could have taken Lydus on and won easily! Don't you think so, Perceon?"
"Yes, Cyril." Perceon said meekly.
"And have you seen his little brother? I bet you he's just as pathetic too. Father says that they were born from a line of jumped-up bastards. It's disgusting really. "A stain to the Iron Throne" he said..."
Alyssa's indigo eyes soon saw nothing but red as she continued to listen as Cyril talked down about her family. Putting her bow down, Alyssa left the shooting range, much to the bemusement of Aelyx and their cousins, Uncle Joffrey, and the other boys who were there, and she began walking towards Cyril. She noticed some horse apples scattered about in the yard. Picking one up with no hesitation, much to the amazement of the boys at the range, Alyssa called out her target's name.
"Hey, Cyril!"
Both Cyril and Perceon stopped and turned to face the princess. Alyssa threw the horse apple with all her might and it landed on Cyril's chest. Cyril took a step back and he looked down at his chest. Dumbfounded at first, the boy's face morphed into disgust once he realized what the projectile was.
"Alyssa!" called out Prince Joffrey in shock as his sons and nephew exchanged looks of amazement with each other and the other boys. Cyril then looked up from his chest, his eyes burning with rage. He saw Alyssa's platinum silver hair, but his anger overrode his ability to reason.
"You little bitch!" he screamed.
Cyril tried to make his way towards Alyssa while his friend attempted to stop him. Alyssa reached down to pick up another horse apple when her uncle ran over and stopped her. A Hightower knight saw the commotion and he went over to restrain the all but rabid Cyril in Perceon's stead since the boy was proving difficult to control. After being successfully restrained, the children were taken away from the yard to get cleaned up and to explain what had happened to their families. Cyril and Alyssa encountered each other again the Hightower's great hall before Lord Ormund Hightower where they were made to apologize.
Cyril and Alyssa's apologies were false, and everyone knew it. Wanting to put the incident behind them, everyone who was gathered in the hall accepted the "apologies" and they moved on. However, Princess Baela Targaryen would praise her daughter when she tucked her into bed later that night for standing up for her family. Despite everything that had happened, the relationship between the Blacks and Greens at Oldtown returned to a steady status quo that could be best described as being tepid. Certainly better than bitter tension.
During the last week of the Targaryen's visit, Alicent invited her stepdaughter and Lady Sam to walk with her in the Hightower's gardens. She wanted to discuss something important with Rhaenyra. It was a humid and sunny day, but slate-colored clouds lingering over the horizon promised a storm in the coming hours. The three women walked about the hedges and the well-manicured rows of flowers and groves of trees while accompanied by their companions and members of the Queensguard.
"What is it you wanted to talk about, Alicent?" asked Rhaenyra as they passed by some pomegranate trees. Alicent stopped to grab a plump and delicious looking fruit from the branch of a nearby tree before speaking.
"Marriage, Rhaenyra. I wish to discuss a betrothal with you."
"For whom?" asked her stepdaughter with a raised eyebrow.
"Aemond." answered Alicent as she cleaned off her pomegranate. "I wish to find a proper wife for him."
The queen's purple eyes widened. She remembered on how fond her stepmother was of Megaera throughout the visit. Surely, Alicent was not thinking of marrying sweet little Meg to her vile half-granduncle, was she? Or maybe she had Laena in mind since she was closer to flowering than her younger sister was? Neither of these possibilities sat well with Rhaenyra I, and they made her a little queasy to be honest.
"Really, now?" responded the queen as she tried to suppress her feelings. "Do you have anyone in mind to marry Aemond?"
"Yes, that Velaryon girl that Lucerys and Rhaena have been fostering. Daenaera."
The answer surprised both Rhaenyra and Samantha.
"Daenaera? Really?"
"Why not?" asked Alicent as she turned around to look at her stepdaughter. "Does your son have anyone in mind to marry her yet?"
"No, none that I know of." answered Rhaenyra. Although she was not asked, Alicent answered why she wanted to betroth Daenaera to her second born son.
"She is a lovely girl both inside and out and possesses good manners and good poise. She will make a splendid wife for my Aemond, and hopefully her beauty will distract him from that arcane whore of his..." Alicent's gaze hardened. "I know that you would baulk at the idea of Aemond marrying one of your precious granddaughters, Rhaenyra.
So, in this case, Lucerys and Rhaena's ward ought to be the perfect substitute. Is Daenaera close to flowering soon, or has she flowered already?"
"I do not believe that her moon blood has come yet." answered Rhaenyra. "But it should be coming soon." the queen then smirked. "I cannot blame you for your feelings about Alys. She is frightful woman. What does Aemond see in her?"
"Tch, only the Father knows that one, and the Crone has not blessed me with any insight either."
A breeze blew through the garden, bringing with it the scent of rain. Looking up into the sky, the women and their companions noticed that the storm clouds were moving in quicker than expected, and that they would soon be upon them. Everyone made a hasty but organized retreat for shelter. They made it back inside the Hightower just as white sheets of summer rain came pouring down. The Lady of the Hightower looked at the two queens and said, "Why don't we discuss this matter further in my solar? It is quieter there than it is out here."
In the dry and luxurious comfort of the solar, with Samantha Tarly mediating between Alicent and Rhaenyra I, the marriage between Aemond and Daenaera was brokered and settled upon. The women celebrated the betrothal with a toast of Arbor Red. Just like the year before, the road to reconciliation was paved by women rather than by men. There was still contempt between the Dragon Queen and the Queen in Exile, but progress had been made nevertheless. And that was all that mattered.
I was originally going to call Valarr, Vaemond to incite some scandal between Rhaenyra I and the Greens, but decided against it later. Incidents from the Red Spring overlap with the confrontations between Rhaenyra's grandchildren and the Greens and Hightower's, namely the fight between Aemond and the Velaryon Prince's at High Tide, and the forced apology between Rhaenyra and Alicent after Lucerys had cut out Aemond's right eye. The horse apples could also be a callback to how Aemond pushed Joffrey into a pile of dragon dung that day too.
Lord Cyril Hightower is a piece of work isn't he? With Cyril being the son of Ser Myles Hightower, he is also the grandson of Ser Bryndon Hightower, and the great-grandson of Ser Hobert Hightower, men who lost their lives during the canon Dance of Dragons.
Anyway, this is probably the last chapter for 2020. Thanks for reading and please review! :)